Your Honor Page 6

  “I’m sorry, Lucy, did you miss ethics class when they taught that in law school?”

  Though his face was only inches from mine, I could tell his demeanor had changed. Suddenly agitated, he stared at my face for a few seconds, then spun on his heels, cleared his throat and returned to his desk.

  My heart was throwing a serious tantrum in my chest over his Jekyll Hyde shit. Then, of course, I heard the outside door of his office.

  “Judge,” a woman’s voice resonated into the room.

  Jenner glanced up at me, his expression unreadable, then said, “Come in, please.”

  A petite, brunette rounded the corner. “Oh goodness, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said in a squeaky, annoying voice.

  “Miss Edwards was just leaving. What can I help you with, Miss McCartney?”

  “Please,” I said, stepping out of the girl’s way. She appeared younger than me. “I’m done here,” I added for good measure, picking up the papers I’d brought in, sliding them into the folder. “Thank you, Judge.”

  My heels clicked loudly with every angry step. Could that man have given more of a mixed message? As my finger punched the elevator button over and over again, I realized I was caught up in an impossible game. One that I could never win. I didn’t know how to make him want me. My whole life had been centered around the single purpose of helping children, protecting them. And now, after only one stupid night with this man, I was letting my desire for something I could never have drive me mad—keep me from remaining focused. I needed to get my head on straight. The only game I needed to be in was my career. When I stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button, I decided that staying away from Jenner Weber was in my best interest. As much as I didn’t want to, it was my only option.

  Chapter 8

  ADJOURNED

  JENNER

  Every single day, I read and reread the ethic statute that could end my career. I read it before I took the bench in front of her. I read it at the end of every day, so I wouldn’t reach out to her. Over the past 45 days seeing her hadn’t gotten easier. I came to work early and left late hoping not to run into Lucy. Seeing her in court was hard enough.

  Though I had no interest in staying in the Child in Need of Care juvenile division, Lucy’s passion was clear. Each case was an individual fight for her. Each case seemed personal. She was going to save New York County one child at a time. Even more evidence that I wasn’t the man for her. Honestly, it was a lost cause. This court did what it could, but the city was overwhelmed. Not enough workers to do the work and half the workers didn’t do their jobs well. I wanted to do my time and get out. Lucy was a distraction. Hell, being a judge wasn’t what I had wanted to do in the first place. I was here because my asshole of a father hadn’t given me a choice.

  I peeked out the tinted window of my chamber door. There she sat, prepared and waiting, wearing a silk blouse that hinted at the luscious curves below. I wondered if that was intentional. My dick flinched seeing her. It remembered in vivid detail how good she felt, and regardless of my discouragement, it seemed to have a mind of its own.

  I grabbed the green legal folder off my desk and half-heartedly read the file, falling short on my judicial duties. When I opened the door, my AA was there.

  “All rise,” she said, and the rest of her words faded into the distance as the proximity between me and Lucy grew smaller. She kept her eyes down. Even when she addressed the court, they never turned fully on me. A part of me wondered if she’d moved on. If there was someone else in her life. In her bed.

  After appearances, I asked for the State’s position. Lucy stood.

  “Your honor. The State would be opposed to this child returning home. I understand that the Department of Children and Families is recommending the child return home, and we find this very concerning. It is the State’s belief that the parents need additional therapy as well as continued individual therapy for the respondent. The child’s health improved when removed from the home. Why would we put her back in the home for the possibility of continued neglect? The state would ask for a review in sixty days.”

  “Guardian ad lietem?” I asked.

  “Thank you, Judge. I agree with the state, but the GAL would simply request that if the child returns home that DCF continue their supervision to insure the health of the child. The child does want to return to her parents’ home, Judge.”

  “Mr. Watson?”

  “Clearly, Judge, Mother is opposed to the child remaining in custody. She has completed her parenting classes, submitted to UAs, fulfilled the case plan in its entirety and is eager to have her daughter home. We would ask that this case be dismissed and jurisdiction be terminated.”

  I saw Lucy fidgeting in her seat. And I knew that my ruling would not make her happy. So far, I hadn’t ruled against her…I mean, the State. She’d made great arguments and deserved those decisions.

  “The court is going to find that Ms. Engle has completed the case plan, and though I’m not terminating jurisdiction, the court is ruling that the child return home to her mother. The court will set a review date, and a report from DCF needs to be prepared for the Court a week prior to that date. Is there anything further to come before the court?”

  Lucy shot upright. “Your Honor, with all due respect, the State vehemently disagrees with this decision and requests Your Honor to take some time to take the decision under advisement. Perhaps a continuance.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Edwards, but the decision has been made. If there is nothing further, this matter is in recess.”

  With hooded eyes, I glanced toward Lucy. She stacked her folders with a clenched jaw. I wanted to explain, to tell her why but I stood and walked out of the courtroom. Her words ‘why do you have to be so mean’ resonated in my head. When I got to my desk, a note from Sara, my AA, let me know she had left early, something about her sick infant. Relief settled through me. I didn’t want anyone to see my reaction to seeing Lucy. I collapsed in my chair.

  Jesus. Why did I feel like shit? Judge Eichman was a friend more than a co-worker. I considered calling him for a possible reassignment as I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hands. I rubbed so hard, I saw stars behind my lids. And, once I rested my head back against my chair and opened my eyes, I saw Lucy standing in front of me.

  Her face was red, not flushed like after an orgasm, but fire red. Angry.

  “Yes, Ms. Edwards?”

  “Seriously, Your Honor. With all due respect, I strenuously disagree with that decision. Please, hear me out.”

  She paused to take a breath, so I sat back and gave her my undivided attention. She deserved that at the very least. What I wanted to do was bury myself inside of her as I bent her over my desk. Fighting that image, I folded my arms across my chest.

  The most beautiful eyelashes fluttered as she appeared to gather her thoughts.

  “Judge. That little girl, Paige, suffers from Munchausen Syndrome by proxy. Do you understand what that is?”

  A smile nipped at the corners of my mouth, but the last thing I wanted was to disrespect her. But damn, she was cute.

  “Yes, Miss Edwards. It’s when you take your child to different doctors for made up illnesses and maybe have unnecessary procedures done. I understand it is a form of child abuse.”

  She shot her index finger in my direction. “NO! I mean, no, Judge. I mean, that’s part of it. But…the parent or caregiver can actually make the child ill. They do things to make the child sick so that the doctors take them seriously. They inject them with things. They give them things orally.”

  The fight in her was endearing. And sadly, since she said the word orally, the only thing going through my mind was the way her mouth fit perfectly around my cock.

  “Are you even listening, Judge?”

  I cleared my throat. “Of course, I’m listening. Thank you for explaining the mental illness better. How does it pertain to the case at hand?”

  The beautiful green eyes that I loved looking down at nearly popped
out of her head. “How does it pertain to this case?” Her voice actually shot up several octaves. “You just sent a child home to a mother that makes her sick. I understand that the way you see it is the mother met the conditions of the case plan, but please look at the other side!”

  The tone of her voice bordered on disrespectful, and there was no way in hell I’d have tolerated this from anyone else. No one.

  “And what IS the other side, Miss Edwards?”

  “The child only got better when removed from the home. You seem to think it’s because this worthless piece of shit mother met some condition on her case plan. When in reality, the child got well when away from her mother!” she screamed.

  “Watch your tone, Lucy,” I gritted through clenched teeth.

  “I won’t watch my tone, Jenner.” She clenched right back, surprising me. “That little girl was put right back in harm’s way today. You put her in the hands of someone who hurts her.” Her voice cracked, and the tears that pooled in her eyes quicker than I could realize spilled over onto her cheeks.

  I swallowed my professional shit chased by my pride and stood to go to her.

  “You don’t understand,” she whispered, then spun around and stormed out of my office.

  By the time I got around my desk and across my office, the door to my division had closed. This wasn’t a place I could chase her. All I could do was pace. Back and forth. My heart pounded in my chest. Unleashing my anger and frustration, I kicked the wood door going into the courtroom, pain shot up my leg.

  I fought to control what was happening inside of my chest. I didn’t know she was going to cry, so I hadn’t been prepared, but I knew it was something I never wanted to see again. Why did I fucking care if she cried? It didn’t matter. It did. I wanted to go to her. To make things better. Jesus. I dragged my hand down my face. Bottom line, I fucked her and now it as over. But the feeling in my chest told me I was the one who was fucked. Personally and professionally.

  LUCY

  The best thing about living next to a baker…the smell. The smell of everything good.

  When I got home, Midge saw my tear-streaked face and asked no questions. She simply enveloped me in a much-needed hug, overwhelming my nose with the smell of sweets and happiness.

  When a knock sounded on my door a little while later, I had no doubt it was her. I met her with a half-hearted smile. Of course, her hands were full of baked goods as she made her way to my kitchen.

  “I have lemon bars, rice crispy treats—which you know I don’t believe are baked goods, but I know you like them—and a small tier wedding cake.”

  “Midge! You seriously made a wedding cake?”

  As she set her gorgeous confections on my table, a smile a mile wide swept over my face. Flowers and baked goods did that for people.

  She swatted her hand in the air. “Oh please, honey. It’s a small tier with simple white frosting. Piece of cake, literally.” She smiled. “But I know it’s your favorite.”

  She was right. It was my favorite. Every year my Pops and Mimi celebrated their anniversary with a small, one tier wedding cake. And the three of us would eat it together. Wedding cake was the absolute best.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Darlin’, only one thing could cause those sorts of tears and chances are it has a penis. If he makes you cry, then he ain’t worth it.”

  I threw her a silly grin. As much as I loved her and as much as I appreciated what she baked for me, I just wanted to be alone.

  “Turn on a lamp in here,” she said as she walked through the living room. “Light is good. Dark is…well, it’s dark.”

  As she stood at the front door, she zapped me with the tea towel that draped over her shoulder. “And don’t eat all those sweets. It’ll make you fat, and you look beautiful just the way you are,” she joked as she opened the door. “Oh! Excuse me,” she added.

  I peered around her to see Jenner standing in the hallway, wet from the storm outside. Midge’s face hardened when she saw my reaction.

  “Lucy? I have a rolling pin that I can fetch real quick.”

  Jenner didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh. His somber eyes focused only on me.

  I tried to smile, but it never reached my face. “I’m ok, Midge. Thank you.”

  When she disappeared behind her door across the hall, Jenner stepped fully into my doorway. A haunted look clung to his eyes. The slump to his shoulders was indicative of his mood.

  “Judge, come in,” I tried to say, but the words wedged in my throat.

  I’d not seen him quite like this. Sweat shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes, soaked to the bone. Rain dripped off the ends of his sopping hair. A puddle collected at his feet.

  My apartment was small enough that I only had to round a corner to grab him a towel. When I handed it to him, he cleared his throat and said, “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t believe he was standing in my apartment. “How did you find me? New York is a pretty big place.”

  A sarcastic huff came out his mouth. “Yep. To be exact, there are seventy-two thousand people per square mile in Manhattan and five hundred people in that damn club and yet, I meet the one woman that I can’t get out of my head and the one I also can’t fucking have.”

  The words sent a tingling sensation fanning out across my chest that then spiraled down into my lower abdomen. He towel dried his hair, but his clothes still dripped on my rug.

  “Do you see the irony in this?” he asked with his lips pulled tight.

  I didn’t answer. I assumed the statement was rhetorical. But I understood perfectly what he meant. All along I had cursed the cruel hand I’d been dealt. Our connection, our chemistry was off the charts from the beginning. All I wanted originally was a one-night hook up. This…whatever this was…hadn’t been in the cards for me or so I thought. And yet, here we stood trying to figure it out.

  “Tell me what I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Pardon me?”

  “When you left my office crying, you said I don’t understand. Make me.”

  “Do you want some dry clothes first?”

  “Do you have something that would fit?”

  In my bedroom, I grabbed him the only pair of big, baggy sweats I had. When he came out of the bathroom, he was shirtless. The sweats, though baggy on me, fit him tighter.

  “Do you have a dryer?”

  Trying not to look at the curves of his chest or the abs that he no doubt worked hard for, I took the clothes and tossed them into the dryer. Over the past few hours, I’d made myself some mental promises that were becoming increasingly harder to keep.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “No. Alcohol needs to stay out of this equation.”

  “You and your equations, Judge.”

  A slight smile touched his lips. “Don’t call me Judge, Lucy. Not now. Not here.” His eyes bore into me.

  Neither of us knew what to say. Words that typically came easily for both of us were now absent. “I know I said no to the drink, but damn that stuff on the table looks pretty good.”

  I grinned. “Oh my God. You have to taste her stuff.”

  We both moved closer to the table. “By her, you mean the lady who was willing to beat me to death with a rolling pin?”

  “Yep. That’s the one.”

  We both reached for the same Rice Krispy treat, and he chuckled as he pulled on his end and I pulled on mine until the bar separated with marshmallow stringing out between the two pieces.

  “Mmm,” he moaned, stirring something low in my abdomen. “That is so delicious and buttery.”

  “I know. I think she doubles down on the butter and marshmallow.” Manners pushed aside, I licked my fingers, cleaning them of the stubborn stickiness.

  “Why the wedding cake?”

  “It’s just the smallest tier she can make. She knows it’s my favorite.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  From my small kitchen, I grabbed a sharp knife and aimed it at h
im—then shot him my evilest of glares. “No occasion. It’s because I came home crying.”

  The perfectly shaped brows pulled together creasing his forehead as he swallowed, watching me cut the cake.

  “You have to try this.”

  “Oh I wasn’t going to leave until I did.”

  I stopped in mid cut, thinking about those words, but then finished slicing through the confection. The sexual tension in the room wasn’t as easy to slice.

  Once I placed the cake on the plate, I cut it in half.

  “I call the piece with the icing,” he said, reaching for it. But I quickly grabbed for it too, both of us fighting for the iced layer. Our fingers mushed into the white cake, destroying the inch-thick piece I’d cut. We both laughed out loud, still fighting for whatever mutilated cake was still on the plate, when suddenly he grabbed my fingers and shoved them into his mouth.

  The hysterical laughter faded quickly as his tongue circled my two fingers and he sucked the icing and smashed cake off my fingers. Desire replaced the amusement that had danced in his eyes a minute ago. The warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue tenderly cleaned my fingers.

  He closed his eyes and pulled my fingers from his mouth. I felt the coldness of the air as he released my hand, not just on my fingers but also in my heart. He wiped his fingers on a napkin and rubbed his palms together.

  “Tell me something about you. Anything. I don’t care what it is. Knowing you like wedding cake and Rice Krispy treats is a start.” He grinned.

  I shrugged worried his mind would change any time. “Hmm. Well, I love Dr. Pepper too. My favorite animal is the beluga whale. I’ve never been on an airplane. I don’t really want kids.”

  His grin turned into a full-blown smile. “Please. What woman doesn’t want kids. I don’t want children either, by the way.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “The man that everyone thinks is so great—the right-wing conservative prick who sits on the bench in DC—wasn’t exactly father of the year. I just don’t really want to give it a try.”

  “Trust me, I get it.” God, did I understand.

  He’d nearly backed me against the counter and my skin hummed with our close proximity. The electrical current buzzing between us was unquestionable. His penetrating stare kept our eyes locked. I so very much wanted him to touch me.